


You Get What You Need

by redeem147



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-10
Updated: 2011-08-10
Packaged: 2017-10-22 11:58:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/237793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redeem147/pseuds/redeem147
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if the African demon had given Spike something else?</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Get What You Need

He fiddled with the knob on his armrest. Long flight. Movie over. He had spent more time than he’d ever admit listening to the classical channel. That was one aspect of his musical tastes that he’d managed to keep secret, and he saw no need for a change in the status quo. There’d already been enough changes, thank you very much. So, back to classical rock. The song blasted into his headphones:

 

“You can’t always get what you want.

But if you try sometime, you just might find

You get what you need.”

 

He considered making it his theme song.

 

The stewardess came by with her well-laden cart. “Beverage sir?”

 

“Yeah, I’ll have a...” He considered asking for a beer. Alcohol had already gotten him into enough trouble. “A diet soda.” Depressing. Now he’d have to watch his calories.

 

“Diet Coke, sir?”

 

“Sure. Fine. Whatever. Thanks, pet.” He took the plastic cup and sat it in the tray cupholder. Realized that in all his long life he’d never had a diet soda. Took a sip. Realized why.

 

Thought about the taste of blood. Tried to imagine swirling it around in his mouth. Thick, coppery, salty. Nauseating. Oh, God.

 

Try to think positive. He looked out the window. Too high up for a view, except the top of the clouds. He’d never seen them from that vantage point. He’d kept the shutter down on the way over. They were beautiful, soft and fluffy. Like flying in heaven. Light poured in the window and he held his hand up to it. Absolutely no combustion. He closed his eyes and thought about walking out onto the savannah. The sun beaming down on his face. He’d never forget that moment. Blue sky and sun.

 

He’d had that brief time with the Ring of Amara. That was a bright, sunny day. But he’d been too focused on fighting Buffy to notice the beauty of the sky. Stupid git.

 

He thought about that for the millionth time. What would Buffy say? Would she stake first and ask questions later? She had every right. Wouldn’t she be surprised, as the blood spread over his shirtfront?

 

Would she accept him now? See his life as a clean slate, admit her feelings and move on with him? He liked that scenario. Walking into the future, hand in hand, marriage, babies. So much for any vestiges of the big bad.

 

Or would she even care? Had everything that attracted her him been burned off in the African sun? Would she vaguely tolerate him now as a curiosity, a sort of friend? Blond version of Harris?

 

He’d leave Sunnydale before he’d let that happen. Whatever the demon had done to him, one thing hadn’t changed. He loved her. She was his heart.

 

Time to fasten his seatbelt. He hoped it wouldn’t be a bumpy ride.


End file.
